Of Dragons and Werewolves
by Lukas Avier
Summary: It all started when Stiles had somehow managed to (kind of?) befriend the antisocial new kid (because the teen refused to believe that he went to the school since forever). "Derek Hale, you have five seconds to explain why there is a crying werewolf in my apartment before I rip your throat out," The redhead snarled, gold eyes blazing. "And I'm a dragon. I can make that happen."
1. Blood

It all started when Stiles had somehow managed to _(kind of?)_ befriend the antisocial new kid (because the teen refused to believe that he went to the school since _forever_ ).

Or, more precisely, it started with blood.

It wasn't the pack's blood, thank God, or Stiles'. There was too much for it to even come from a werewolf. It stained the grass red, seeping into the earth and giving the soil a strange, mythical feeling- to Stiles, anyway. They had came across it on one of their runs, the pack going slower than normal for their little human, who _swore_ he was going to keel over and die if they didn't just _stop_ , when Isaac had come across it. The poor kid was shaking and his voice trembled as he called out to his alpha.

Derek just kept staring at the large puddle of blood with a strange expression in his eyes, kneeling down to get a better look. "There's gold mixed in it," He reported, standing straight again and making his way back over to his pack.

"Gold?" Stiles tilted his head, shuffling closer to the puddle now that his curiosity was spiked, "Woah, there _is_ gold. What does it mean?"

"It's the blood of a dragon," The alpha answered, looking at the blood once more.

"A d-dragon?" Lydia took a step away from it, as if it would turn into one right then and there.

"Seems recent," The Stilinski commented, wring his hands together and shifting from foot to foot.

"Yeah, I think it's heading that way," Scott added, pointing to their left. "Should we see where it leads?"

"And risk running into a dragon?" Danny snorted, "I'll pass, thanks."

"No one asked you to come," Jackson sneered but stopped when Derek growled at him.

"Wow, there's a lot."

The werewolves turned to see that Stiles had walked a good three feet away, following the trail. It was obvious that the human would go no matter what but didn't he have _any_ self preservation instincts? Apparently not.

"I think something was chasing it," Stiles added, looking at deep claw marks made in a tree. One was easily bigger than his whole hand and it made him wonder how it was still standing.

"What would chase a dragon?" Isaac asked, eyebrows furrowed.

It was no secret that, out of all of the supernatural baddies, dragons were one of the most feared of them all. You had to be high on something _strong_ if you even thought about going after one of the massive creatures. And then you'd be suicidal to even be _going_ after it. By then, you're already dead because when you can't see it, _it_ can see you.

"A dragon?" Allison suggested, adjusting her bow over her shoulder nervously at the thought. It wasn't a pretty thing to imagine.

"There's a cave," Danny reported when it seemed like the werewolves, hunter, and human, were too busy thinking. "The trail ends here."

"I don't see anything," Erica said, squinting even with her werewolf vision to attempt to see into the area. "Maybe it crawled away to die or something. Let's just go."

The other's nodded and started making their way back to the loft. For some reason, Jackson felt the need to turn around, back towards the cave. When he did, he froze, "Uh, guys...? I don't think that the dragon's dead."

Large golden eyes stared at them through the darkness, glowing eerily in the cool air.


	2. The 'New' Student

"Nobody... Move..." Derek said slowly, inching in front of Stiles a bit.

There was a gust of air that ruffled their clothes from inside the cave. The dragons snorted.

"I still think it can see us," The Stilinski muttered, wringing his hands nervously. Sure, he dealt with werewolves on a daily basis but this was a _dragon_. This was something that could break his body in half with the flick of a _claw_. It could gobble him up, digest him, then turn him into dragon poo and that was just gross because Stiles definitely did _not_ want to be dragon shit and-

"I think your human is hyperventilating," A deep voice said, echoing through the clearing, and it Stiles flinched because it was the _dragon_.

"Stiles, you need to calm down," Derek said quietly, rubbing soothing circles in the teen's back.

"Stiles..." The dragon murmured quietly, barely heard by the pack, "What an interesting name..."

"Nickname," Stiles gasped, finally getting his breath back. "Stiles is just a nickname."

"I see," The dragon shifted, as if to get comfortable, and immediately stopped, screwing it's eyes shut.

"You're hurt," Jackson said, bravely stepping forward. "What happened?"

The dragon opened it's eyes again and noticed the werewolf coming closer but did nothing, which shocked the pack. He merely closed his eyes for a moment (for that's all they could see due to the darkness of the cave) before answering in a low tone, "I left my clan. They did not appear to like it and attacked me, trying to force me back into the clan."

"Where are they now?" Lydia asked, scooting closer to Jackson a bit.

"Dead," The dragon answered sadly and it was obvious that it hurt it greatly to say it. "When they were attacking, another dragon came. He snuck up behind them and I-" The dragon stopped, calming down before continuing, "I failed them. He slashed at hem and I... I failed them as the leader. I abandoned them."

"You were the leader?" Jackson asked, stepping even _closer_. "So, like the alpha?"

"Precisely," The dragon answered. "You're very brave for a werewolf. Even your alpha won't come closer but..." His eyes traveled to Stiles and there was a smile in it's voice, "Then again..."

Erica snorted to herself, "Even the _dragon_ noticed it."

"I know you won't hurt me," Jackson smiled and it wasn't his holier-than-thou smile but just a friendly one. "I don't know how but I know."

"Interesting. Ah, but don't come any closer. There's blood on the ground," The dragon blinked and released a small gust of air.

"I want to help you," Jackson said and ignored his alpha's growl, sending Derek a glare of his own. Why was he going against the leader of his pack for a dragon?

Gold eyes flickered from the beta to the alpha before the dragon nodded slowly, "Alright..."

Suddenly, the darkness receded and the dragon's body was revealed. It was large, dark red, and looked very dangerous. The scales appeared smooth, blood red in color, and large spikes protruded from it's back, going all the way until it almost reached it's tail. It's teeth looked razor sharp but Stiles, observing every aspect of the dragon because hel _lo_ dragon, didn't miss how they were pearly white. A large gash ran under the dragon's body, across it's chest, and two claw marks were slashed on his heck, as if something tried to decapitate it.

"Yeah, I don't think we have enough for that," Stiles said, holding up a roll of bandages that suddenly looked pathetic against the massive being.

The dragon snorted, amused greatly by the human, "I do have a mortal form."

"Really?" Suddenly, it was like the Stilinski was never afraid of the being because he was close to sitting on it's snout.

"Yes," The dragon answered, amusement playing in it's golden eyes. "But you don't need to worry about my wounds. They will heal with time. I-" It suddenly turned it's head sharply to the right, careful not to knock down Stiles, "Is your home over past the river?"

"Yes," Derek answered and his eyes widened. "There's an alpha pack. Move!"

"Till next time," The dragon said, tilting his head when Jackson turned and waved.

* * *

"That was the scariest yet awesome weekend ever!" Stiles grinned, stretching, as he walked inside the school.

"Yeah, Scott nodded, rolling his shoulders. "You think we'll see it again?"

"Pretty sure it's a he," The genius replied, muffling a yawn with his hand. "And, yeah, I bet we will."

"Excuse me," A voice behind them said.

"Wha?" The two teens turned around to see another teenager in a long black coat that reached his ankles, black pants, and dark brown boots. Tied loosely around his neck was a dark gray scarf. His hands were stuffed in his pockets but it was obvious that he was also wearing black gloves. He had a shock of dark red hair, so dark it was almost like blood, that reached the base of his neck and one strand was long than the other, reaching his color bone on his left side. On one eyebrow (which was dark red also so his hair way natural?) he had two black rings and he had a lip piercing on the left corner of his lips. His eyes twinkled in amusement though he shifted as if uncomfortable.

"Oh, sorry," Stiles said, moving out of the doorway to let the teen pass. "Who was that?"

"That's Lanca Mill," Scott answered after a moment. "He's Ms. Dran's favorite."

"Ms. _Dran's_ favorite? Ms. _I'm-going-to-suck-out-your-soul-_ Dran?"

"That's the one. He's only her favorite because he's quiet or whatever," Scott nodded, walking to his locker.

"Wait, you mean he's _not_ new?" Stiles scrambled after his best friend, "He _has_ to be new!"

"Nope, I saw him freshman orientation," The McCall grinned, enjoying how his friend freaked out. "Don't worry, he doesn't talk to anyone and when I say anyone, I _mean_ anyone."

"He talked to us," Stiles pointed out.

"We were in his way."

"Very true."

* * *

"I still can't believe he's not new!" Stiles exclaimed, ignoring the looks of people around him as he stabbed his food at lunch.

"Who are we talking about?" Jackson asked, sliding in next to Scott.

"Lanca," The McCall supplied.

"Mill? Oh, yeah, he's not new. He's been here since _forever_."

"I won't believe it!" Stiles pouted, leaning against the palm of his hand and poking his food miserably. He suddenly jerked up straight and the werewolves looked over when his heart rate picked up.

"Stiles?" Scott asked worriedly, "Stiles?"

 _'Shit,'_ Stiles thought, mind racing. _'His eyes were gold.'_


	3. Meanings

All Stiles could do was look around for the redhead and keep an eye on him. Still, even _that_ was becoming hard for the Stilinski to do. It was like, every time he looked away for a moment, Lanca would disappear. So, he took the time to look in his classes for the teen. I mean, he was bound to have _some_ classes with him, right? And he did; language arts and gym. Wow, how did he not notice. Seriously, like hel _lo_? Ms. Dran ring a bell? She was the assistant coach for Coach, who didn't want to be called anything else. Lanca was, apparently, he favorite.

Right now, Stiles was sitting in his language arts class, bouncing his leg up and down in anticipation, waiting for the redhead to arrive. He was late, a good one minute late. Why? By now, after three days of watching the redhead, Stiles learned that Lanca was never late for anything. First to arrive and last to leave.

Ten minutes went by. No Lanca. Maybe he was sick? Or... Maybe he was dead!

Stiles shook his head, ignoring the looks of others, _'No, Stiles, bad. You can't think everyone's dead just because they don't show up to something. That's not how you make friends.'_

"Glad you could join us, Mr. Mill," Mr. Smith, the L.A. teacher spoke up, breaking the Stilinski out of his thoughts.

"Sorry, Mr. Smith," The redhead spoke, adjusting his bag on his shoulder. "Won't happen another time."

 _'Another time,'_ Stiles noted to himself, filing it away. _'Strange. Not 'again'..'_

That's what Stiles did. He noted every odd thing Lanca did (which probably wasn't very polite but who cares?) and kept tabs on him. There was something strange about the redhead and Stiles was determined to figure out what.

"You'll have to borrow somebody's notes," Mr. Smith continued, looking over the class for a moment, and Lanca nodded.

Now's his chance.

"He can use my notes, Mr. Smith," Stiles called, raising his hand. He grinned at Lanca when he saw his surprised look and waved him over.

"Thank you," Lanca gave the genius a small smile as he sat in the empty chair next to him. The class didn't use actual desks because people had the tendency to spread their papers out when they got into their writing.

"No problem. We never met. I'm Stiles," Stiles held out his hand, giving an easy-going smile.

Lanca gave a small, shy smile (one that made Stiles want to coo and hug him which was weird) and shook the offered hand, "Lanca. It's a pleasure to meet you."

'Pleasure to meet you'. "Here's the notes for today," Stiles slid over his notebook before continuing with his writing. He was currently making a story about the pack's latest adventure. Don't worry, he changed their names and everything.

"Genim," Stiles heard the redhead mumble and turned his head over to him, nearly giving himself whiplash.

"What?" He choked out, staring at the teen with wide eyes.

"Your name," Lanca pointed to the corner of one of the pages in the notebook. "It's Genim?"

"Ah, yeah..." Stiles said slowly, scared of his reaction.

"It's an interesting name," Lanca nodded, smile widening just a tad bit. "It has an interesting meaning."

"What does it mean?" Stiles found himself asking, leaning forward slightly.

Lanca only gave him a knowing smile, "Ah, you probably wouldn't believe me. You like researching things, yes? I'm sure you'll find out what your name means." He took out some papers and a pen, jotting a title down, "It is a nice name, Genim."

"I-uh-I," For once, Stiles couldn't find the words to say. "Thank you."

Lanca merely hummed.

* * *

And now, Stiles found himself sitting on his bed with his laptop, typing his name in the search bar. He studied all the tabs before clicking the seventh one. "Wait a second," He replayed what Lanca said to him. _'You like researching, yes? I'm sure you'll find out what your name means.'_ "How did he know I like researching things?"

 _You entered: **Genim**_

 _There are 5 letters in your name._  
 _Those 5 letters total to 30_  
 _There are 2 vowels and 3 consonants in your name._

 _ **Your number is:** 3_

 _ **The characteristics of #3 are:** Expression, verbalization, socialization, the arts, the joy of living._

 _ **The expression or destiny for #3:**_  
 _An Expression of 3 produces a quest for destiny with words along a variety of lines that may include writing, speaking, singing, acting or teaching; our entertainers, writers, litigators, teachers, salesmen, and composers. You also have the destiny to sell yourself or sell just about any product that comes along. You are imaginative in your presentation, and you may have creative talents in the arts, although these are more likely to be latent. You are an optimistic person that seems ever enthusiastic about life and living. You are friendly, loving and social, and people like you because you are charming and such a good conversationalist. Your ability to communicate may often inspire others. It is your role in life to inspire and motivate; to raise the spirits of those around you._

 _The negative side of number 3 Expression is superficiality. You may tend to scatter your forces and simply be too easygoing. It is advisable for the negative 3 to avoid dwelling on trivial matters, especially gossip._

 _ **Your Soul Urge number is:** 5_

 _ **A Soul Urge number of 5 means:**_  
 _The 5 soul urge or motivation would like to follow a life of freedom, excitement, adventure and unexpected happening. The idea of travel and freedom to roam intrigues you. You are very much the adventurer at heart. Not particularly concerned about your future or about getting ahead, you can seem superficial and unmotivated._

 _In a positive sense, the energies of the number 5 make you very adaptable and versatile. You have a natural resourcefulness and enthusiasm that may mark you as a progressive with a good mind and active imagination. You seem to have a natural inclination to be a pace-setter. You are attracted to the unusual and the fast paced._

 _You may be overly restless and impatient at times. You may dislike the routine work that you are engaged in, and tend to jump from activity to activity, without ever finishing anything. You may have difficulty with responsibility._

 _ **Your Inner Dream number is:** 7_

 _ **An Inner Dream number of 7 means:**_  
 _You dream of having the opportunity to read, study, and shut yourself off from worldly distractions. You can see yourself as a teacher, mystic, or ecclesiastic, spending your life in the pursuit of knowledge and learning._

"Huh," Stiles grinned and shut his computer when he heard his window opening.

"What are you smiling about?" Derek asked as he climbed inside.

"Nothing," Stiles hummed, knowing full well that the werewolf could tell he was lying. "Just happy."


	4. Cookies

"Dude, what's with you?" Scott asked, looking over at his best friend during the pack meeting. "You've been smiling non stop."

"Yeah, Batman," Erica sat next to him, nudging his arm. "What's got you all happy?"

"Nothing, nothing," Stiles hummed, twirling a pen in his hand. "Just... Happy."

"I'm just happy you are," Isaac piped up, snuggling in the genius' left side. "You don't smell like fear anymore."

Stiles looked at him in surprise before smiling softly, "Thanks, pup."

* * *

"Hey, Lanca," Stiles greeted the redhead, taking a seat next to him. He pulled out his papers, missing the startled look he received from the teen.

"Stiles," Lanca gave his usual small smile, turning towards the brunette to give him his full attention. "How are you today?"

"Happy," Stiles supplied, grinning widely. "What about you?"

"Mm," Lanca looked to the side thoughtfully, adjusting his scarf (that he never took off). I'm okay, I suppose."

Stiles furrowed his eyebrows worriedly. _'Just 'okay'?'_

"I'm fine, Genim," Lanca said with his usual smile. For some reason, despite Stiles' protests, he insisted on calling him by his real name. "I just don't feel all too happy right now."

"It's cool," The Stilinski nodded. "I understand."

"Thank you," The redhead looked down at the papers in Stiles' hands. "May I?"

"Oh, sure," The brunette handed over his unfinished story. For some reason, he never felt judged by Lanca, like he could tell him anything and it would be alright. "It's not good but yeah."

"It's amazing," Lanca said breathlessly as his eyes flew across the page. He was silent for a couple of minutes, intent on finishing what was written so far, before throwing his hands up, "What? How could you kill him off? He was meant to be with Serena!"

Stiles snorted, not having expected that reaction from him, "He was a trigger. She needed a drive."

"But.. But.." Lanca gave him a wide-eyed look, clutching the papers close to him, "Why James? Why couldn't it be her father, Adam? He would have been a good trigger."

"Nope," Stiles laughed, popping the 'p'. "Had to be James."

"You suck, Genim."

Yeah, Stiles wasn't expecting that kind of reaction but, hey, Lanca was finally opening up more. I mean, it only took him two weeks. Progress.

* * *

"You've been hanging around Lanca more often," Lydia said when Stiles sat down at the lunch table.

"Yeah," Stiles nodded, taking out his tub of food that he made last night. "He's actually pretty cool."

"You should ask if he wants to sit with us," Scott added, pointing his fork at his friend.

"I did," The Stilinski said, biting into his sandwich.

"And?"

"He'll come if he wants to," Stiles shrugged, continuing to eat. "I'm not going to force him to eat with us. I doubt he'll co-"

"He's here," Jackson cut in, looking towards the doors of the cafeteria. Just as he said that, Lanca walked in, hands in his pockets and shoulders hunched. It looked like he was trying to hide from everyone as he walked over, barely scanning the area to look for them. He seemed uncomfortable and walked quickly, avoiding eye contact with everyone.

"Hey, Lanca," Stiles grinned up at the redhead.

"Hello, Stiles," Lanca said with a small smile, taking a seat next to Jackson. "You must be Jackson, Scott, and Lydia. Stiles talked a lot about you."

"Really?" Jackson raised an eyebrow and looked over at Stiles, "Good things, I hope."

Lanca tilted his head, "There were only good things."

"Okay!" Stiles' face was red and he waved his arms frantically, Moving on! Where's your lunch?"

The redhead shrugged, "Don't have one. Didn't have enough money to get some."

"Can't your parents give you money?" Lydia asked in concern.

"I live alone," Lanca smiled, seemingly unbothered by the questions.

"What?!" Stiles choked on his bread and pounded his chest. "Okay, you are _so_ coming over to the loft! I am _not_ letting you starve!"

"It's alright, Stiles," Lanca said, holding up his hands to calm the teen. "I'll be fine."

"Oh, yeah?" The brunette raised a disbelieving eyebrow, "When'll you have enough money to buy food."

Lanca looked away for a moment, biting his lip piercing, "...Three days...?"

"Yup, you're coming to the loft. End of story."

"But-"

"End. Of story."

* * *

"Are you sure it's okay if I come over?" Lanca asked for the fifth time since he got in Stiles' jeep. "I don't want to bother anyone."

"You're not bothering anyone," Stiles rolled his eyes. "Oh, but if Derek looks like he wants to rip out your throat, it's okay. That's just his normal face."

"Ah, okay," Lanca nodded, trying to commit this to memory.

"And Erica may seem mean but she's a real softie once you get to know her. Boyd's kind of silent, like you, but he's sweet. Isaac's really shy and nervous around people. He's had a rough past."

"Alright," The redhead nodded again. "I'll remember that."

"Cool."

* * *

Stiles walked into the loft, not even bothering to knock or anything, and Lanca followed. He hesitated at the doorway but walked inside when Jackson waved him inside. "Ah, hello," Lanca smiled at Derek, who lounged on his reclining chair. "You must be Derek. Sorry if I'm intruding."

"It's fine," The alpha spoke, looking at him with a strange emotion. "You're Lanca, right? Stiles mentioned you before."

The redhead nodded and looked to his right when he felt someone staring at him. Isaac kept his eyes trained on him from where he sat cuddled with Erica and Boyd. He looked curious, leaning over slightly as if to get a better look. "Hello," He waved at the beta. "My name's Lanca and you are?"

"Isaac," The boy supplied, smiling slightly. He didn't seem like that shy boy Stiles had described and it seemed like the others were surprised by that too.

"The name's Erica," The blonde girl to Isaac's right spoke up. "And this is Boyd," She nodded to the boy on Isaac's left.

"Nice to meet you," Lanca looked at Derek, who nodded to the other couch, and sat down. "I'm sorry if this is awkward," The redhead said with his usual smile. "I'm not quite sure how to interact with people."

"It's cool," Jackson plopped down next to Lanca, eating an apple. "We'll just have to get you used to us."

"What?" Lanca looked over at the teen, eyes widened slightly, "You mean, I can come back?"

"Yeah, we're friends now," The brunette grinned. "Plus, now that Stiles found out that you live alone he's not going to leave you alone."

"That's true," Lanca laughed and, to Jackson, it sounded like chiming bells -beautiful and clear.

"Here," Stiles suddenly appeared out of the kitchen with a plate of cookies and handed it to the redhead. "Hope you like sweets."

Suddenly, it's like Lanca turned into a little kid because he snatched the plate and practically inhaled three before giving out a thanks. "These are so good," He moaned, sinking into the couch cushions in bliss. He offered the plate to Jackson, who took a cookie and had the same reaction.

Lanca rolled over on the couch so he could peer up at Stiles better, and he widened his eyes, "If I come over more, will you make me sweets?"

"Sure," Stiles laughed, face red at their reactions. He wasn't expecting _that_. Were they that good? Apparently so.

"Awesome," Lanca mumbled, stuffing his face.

Jackson looked at him in amusement and said to himself, "Looks like he's opening up more already."


	5. Stories

"Lanca!"

The redhead in question froze just at the doors of the school. For a moment, he was confused. Just how many people did he know that knew, let alone remembered, his name? Then it hit him. He turned around, his smile widening just a tad bit when he saw Stiles hop out of his jeep, "Hello, Genim."

"Hey!" Stiles ran up to him, a small white paper bag in his hands. "You probably didn't have breakfast so, since you love sweets, I picked you up a chocolate donut _covered_ in sprinkles," He held out the bag with a grin, watching as his friend's(?) golden eyes lit up like the fourth of July.

"Wow," Lanca grabbed the bag, sticking his nose in it and sniffing. "Thank you."

Stiles had to wonder if Lanca was a werewolf or not when he acted like this. I mean, he liked to smell donuts too but he even did it with the cookies before he ate them. Yeah, Stiles managed to catch that, even with him being a human and all. "No problem, man," He smiled. "Oh, hey, are you allergic to anything?"

"Hmm?" Lanca tapped his chin for a second, thinking about it. Was he allergic to anything? "Not that I know of, no."

"Okay, cool," Stiles nodded but inside he was confused. _'He had to think about it? Shouldn't it come right off the back?'_

"Did you finish that story? Or edit it?" Lanca asked, biting into his donut.

"James is still going to die."

"But... But..."

* * *

"Hey, Stiles..."

Stiles jerked in surprise when he heard his name called while in the locker room. He was even more surprised when it was _Jackson_ that called his name, "Hey, man, what's up?"

"I.. Uh," The brunette shuffled nervously in place for a second before digging in his pockets for his phone. "I found this recipe for a triple chocolate cake with caramel drizzle and I was wondering if.. Um... I was wondering if you could help me make this..."

Stiles blinked, "Uh, sure but I thought you didn't like sweets all that much. Too much sugar."

"It's not for me," Jackson shrugged. "I just thought that Lanca might like it."

"Like it?" Stiles snorted, shouldering his bag, "He'll love it."

The brunette sighed with relief, "Good."

"Come on, Lizard-boy, we have class to go to."

* * *

"Hello, everyone," Lanca once again took a seat at the lunch table at Jackson's right. He smiled when Lydia waved. After a couple days of insisting that he sat with them, the redhead finally got the idea to just go with it and eat lunch with them.

"Hey, Lanca!" Scott grinned, mouth stuffed with food. "How've ya been?"

"Chew and swallow," Stiles ordered, not looking up from his chicken. "Don't talk with your mouth full. It's rude."

Scott did as told, smiling sheepishly, "Right, sorry. How've ya been?"

"I've been good," The redhead said with an amused smile, watching the pair. He reached into his bag and pulled out a... A piece of bread.

"Oh, my god," Stiles dropped his fork, gaping at Lanca. "Please, please, _please_ tell me that is _not_ your lunch!"

Lanca had a confused face on, looking like a confused puppy, "It is." He turned to Jackson, who was looking at the bread with a disturbed expression. "Is there something wrong with it?"

"That," Jackson pointed at the food. "Is not a lunch. It's just... Bread." He opened his container and took out one of his extra sandwiches that he had saved for later, "Here, have this."

"Thank you..?" Lanca still looked like a lost child (and Stiles found it adorable and sad at the same time) but accepted the food anyway, "Oo, meat!"

"So, are you making a story?" Scott asked, looking at the redhead. "Stiles said that your in his language arts class."

"As a matter of fact I am," Lanca said, perking up quickly. "Do you want to read it?"

"I do," Jackson, surprisingly, answered first before Stiles could even open his mouth.

"Here," Lanca reached into his bag before pulling out a small worn leather notebook. Some of the pages looked added in, some of them in the middle of the book. It looked to be written in a lot, different shades of ink staining parts of the pages, albeit barely.

"Oo, can he read it out loud?" Stiles asked, looking at the redhead eagerly. He was curious after seeing the book. It looked like he had been writing in it for years.

"Of course," Lanca nodded though he looked slightly nervous.

 _"There was once a mighty dragon with scales the color of red and eyes like molten gold. He was the king of his land and feared by all. He rarely ventured away from his den, preferring to stay in the darkness that his cave held. He never thought of it, never really bothered with what he considered to be trivial, but he realized that, maybe, he was tired. Tired of being alone. It didn't matter though. There were no other dragons around. He was the last one. There were no more 'good' dragons. There never were. Dragons represented blood, death, and destruction. That's what he was. He was always going to be alone. The king of dragons without his loyal subjects._

 _That all changed, however, when he heard small cries from somewhere in his territory. Rising, he made his way towards the noise and saw the most beautiful sight ever. Four baby dragons looked up at him with big, colorful eyes, making small squeaking noises. His large eyes softened and he gently picked them up with a claw. "Where did you little ones come from?"_

 _Later, they grew up, running around and calling his name he once that he had forgotten. What really made his day was when they all called him 'dad'. He adored them, cared for them like they were his own. He would always protect them. He'll never let them go._

 _"No, Dad, you can't leave us! You promised you'd stay!"_

 _"I'm sorry, Zeyna," The dragon looked at his daughter with sad eyes. "I must go."_

 _"No!" Leon, his eldest son, snarled, glaring at him, "You can't leave the clan! I thought we were a family!"_

 _"I'm sorry, I-" The king of the dragons choked on his words when his youngest daughter, his baby girl, fell to the ground lifeless. Standing over her, Jarning, the king's longtime enemy, roared at him, taunting him with his eyes._

 _"How dare you!" The king roared, launching himself at the black dragon. His heart broke when three other dragons appeared, pouncing on his other children. "Leave them alone! Don't-" He was cut off by his children's screamed and was forced to watch as they lost their lives._

 _That was the day that the king of dragons truly died. He may still live, all alone in complete solitude, but, deep inside, he was truly dead. His family, his children, his world... Gone... and it was all his fault."_

Jackson took a shaky breath, his eyes darting over the pages. He looked up at his friends, noticing that they were a little teary eyed as well.

"There's more," Lanca said softly, looking down at his hands with sad eyes.

Jackson looked at the pages once more and drew in a sharp breath, "Based on a true story..."


	6. The Mall and 'Little Alpha'

Stiles POV-

Lanca avoided us since then. He just up and left without even taking his notebook back. None of us could find him; the werewolves couldn't catch his scent; like warmth and summer with the hint of loneliness as Isaac described it, and Danny, Allison, and I didn't hear about any sightings of him from anyone in the school. It was like he just disappeared off the face of the earth. Maybe he was worried that we wouldn't like him anymore for being a dragon. I mean, sure, it came as a shock to us but Lanca had been nothing but nice to us from the beginning, even when we didn't know he was the dragon.

"I'm worried," I murmured, shifting in my spot on the couch. "It's been three days and we _still_ haven't found Lanca!"

"Yeah," Jackson nodded, wringing his hands together like I did when I was upset. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out why, out of everyone, Jackson was the most worried. It was strange, the beta usually hid how he felt from everyone. "He never misses a lacrosse practice."

 _Yeah, that's true- Wait, What?_ "Lacrosse?" I turned to the brunette, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "What do you mean?"

Jackson tilted his head like a confused puppy, staring at me with big eyes, "He always comes to the practices. He sits next to the entrance. He always comes after everyone."

"How do you know that?" Isaac questioned. "I've never seen him there."

"Seriously? How can you miss that red hair?" Jackson snorted, crossing his arms, "He always laughs at Stilinski and McCall."

"We'll settle this later," Allison decided after a moment before turning to Derek, who hadn't spoken a word so far. "Can we go shopping?"

Derek looked like he was about to refuse so I jumped in, "Of course we can! Grab your stuff and head to the cars!" I ignored the glare digging a hole in my back.

* * *

"Oh, my God!" Erica, Lydia, and Allison squealed when we walked inside, "They have a Hot Topic here!"

"Do they have to be so loud?" Scott whined, cleaning out his ear.

"Deal with it, Scotty," I laughed, pushing his shoulder lightly. "Hot Topic is _awesome_."

* * *

We were heading to the car, hands full of bags all from Hot Topic, when all the werewolves stopped. Turning to them, I put my bags in the back of my jeep before turning to face the others fully, "What? What is it?"

"I..." Jackson tilted his head to his left towards library, "I smell Lanca."

"Really?" Everyone, save for Derek, perked up from the news, "I thought it was familiar!"

Just as they said that, the doors to the library opened and out walked a familiar redhead. Lanca was wearing his black trench coat with a white shirt and black scarf. He wore big black rimmed glasses, like the ones people wore for fashion, and he had a couple of big books tucked under his arm. His gold eyes flickered this way and that and he played with his lip piercing.

"Lanca!" I called happily, waving at the redhead.

Lanca froze, stilling for a second, before his eyes lit in recognition. He allowed us to come closer, not disappearing like he always did after speaking with us. He kept one hand in his pocket and he faced us fully, a small smile on his lips, "Hello."

"Hello?!" Jackson demanded, marching forward despite our attempts to stop him. He looked up at Lanca, who was a good inch or two taller than him, and glared harshly, "That's all you have to say?! We were worried about you- _I_ was worried about you- and all you have to say is 'HELLO'?!"

We didn't know who was more surprised, us or Lanca, but the redhead simply smiled more and placed his books gently on the library steps. He took his other gloved hand out of his pocket and gently grabbed Jackson's, running his thumb over the green scales starting to show. "I'm sorry," He said at last. "I was... Scared."

"You don't have to be scared," Jackson said after calming down a bit. "It doesn't matter that you're a dragon. I mean, look at me! I'm a freaky lizard and they still accepted me!"

"I'm looking at you now," Lanca said, voice serious but eyes kind. "And all I see is Jackson Whittemore."

"I-" Jackson seemed at a loss for words, opening and closing his mouth constantly.

Suddenly, Lanca's stomach rumbled and he blinked owlishly down at it like he didn't know where it came from. Just seeing that made my eyebrow twitch in irritation and my mother instincts come out, "When was the last time you ate?"

"Three days ago," Lanca answered, face scrunched up in confusion and _man_ , did that hurt. "I don't understand. Why does it matter?"

"I knew it," I sighed, rubbing my face tiredly. "That's it, you're coming back to the house with us. Where's your car?"

Lanca shrugged, tilting his head, "I don't have one."

"Okay, where do you live?" I tried, internally praying for good news.

"Three blocks down that way," The redhead answered, pointing to his right. "I live in the apartment complex."

I mentally traced the distance from there to the school and blanched, "You mean to tell me that you walk two miles to get to school _everyday_?"

Lanca shrugged again, "Something like that. It's no big deal, really. I like to walk."

"Mmhm," I nodded, deciding to humor him a bit. "Do you have a job?"

The others seemed to notice what I was doing while Lanca still looked horribly lost. Then, it was as if something dawned on him, "I'm fine, Stiles, really."

"Yeah, right," This time, it was Derek. He walked forward, arms crossed, and looked at him.

For a moment, it didn't seem like two people were staring each other down. It was a dragon and a wolf, neither one willing to back down. For me, just then, it was the scariest thing I ever witnessed. Finally, Lanca let go of Jackson's hand (which I realized he was still holding) and stuffed his hands in his pockets, "Hello, Derek."

"You're coming back with us to the loft," Red bled into the werewolf's eyes. I knew that it wouldn't work on Lanca, who we now established was a dragon, and was surprised when the redhead nodded.

"Alright, Little Alpha," Lanca answered and chuckled lightly when Derek growled at him. "Who am I riding with?"

* * *

I led Lanca inside again, assuring him that he was allowed to enter when he stopped at the door again, and immediately headed towards the kitchen. Opening the fridge, I frowned when I realized that we need to go to the grocery store again. I mean, come _on_ , this was the third time this _week_! "Derek, we need to go shopping again!"

"Alright," The alpha nodded, grabbing his keys.

"We'll be right back," I told the betas. "Don't destroy the house and, please, don't scare Lanca away."


	7. Panic Attacks and Sub Sandwiches

It seemed like, right as Derek and Stiles left, everything went to shit.

The pack was doing there best to make Lanca comfortable; offering him a drink, starting a conversation, and even asking if he wanted to draw. Lanca did some willingly, like accepting the drink, but it was then that Lanca being labeled as 'antisocial' wasn't a joke. He couldn't seem to contribute to some of the conversations and it was obvious that he was a bit frustrated like he wasn't speaking their language.

Isaac had offered to get the drink, quickly followed by Danny, who went to help with the others. For some strange reason, Isaac had taken a liking to the dragon, including him in everything he did. He smiled at the redhead, asking him about anything and everything dragon related. That was something Lanca could speak about normally.

"Dragons have a-" Lanca was cut off when the sound of glass shattering came from the kitchen. His head snapped towards the doorway, eyebrows furrowed, and waited. He stood up with the others when Danny ran out looking worried and scared.

"He just started crying and muttering something and he's hyperventilating and-" Danny's ramble was cut off by Lydia, who put a hand on his shoulder.

"Danny, calm down. What happened?" The girl questioned.

The others looked towards the kitchen again when the smell of fear and panic became stronger. They were surprised when Lanca bolted forward, clearing the space between the couch and the kitchen in just three strides. The others scrambled after him, worried about the youngest beta. They entered just in time to see Lanca trying to talk calmly to Isaac.

"Leave me alone!" Isaac screamed, backing into a counter, "I didn't do anything!"

"Isaac," Lanca said calmly, soothingly, stepping forward slightly. "I need you to calm down. Just breath, okay?"

"Leave me alone! Don't hurt me!" Isaac was using the surface of the counter to hold himself up, eyes blown wide with panic.

"I'll never hurt you," Lanca said calmly, raising his hands to show that he meant no harm. "I only need you to relax. Everything's okay. You're safe."

"No! Stop lying! LEAVE ME ALONE!" Isaac grabbed one of the knives and threw it at the redhead, screaming at the top of his lungs.

Lanca didn't even flinch, catching the object by the blade between his fingers with ease. He placed it down on the island and gave the young beta a small smile. He walked forward and knelt in front of Isaac when the boy sank to the floor in a corner, "You're safe here, Little One. No one's going to hurt you again. You have a nice pack here to protect you. Don't ever forget that." He pulled the boy in a hug when he hiccupped, scrubbing at his tears, "Shh, don't cry, Young Pup. It's okay. We won't let anyone hurt you. You have werewolves here to protect you and one big bad dragon so stop your crying. Chin up. Show me that wonderful smile of yours."

Everyone watched as Isaac's shaking subsided and his breathing regulated. They sighed in relief when the beta slumped against Lanca, burrowing his face in the crook of his neck. The redhead didn't say a word, only gently rocking the boy. He lifted him up, careful not to hit him on the counters, and passed the others. He placed the blonde on the couch, placing a blanket over him.

Lanca released a small sigh, pushing that one strange long piece of hair behind his ear, and turned to the other werewolves and hunter, "He should be fine now. All he needs is rest. He had a small panic attack so he'll be out for a while."

"T-thanks," Danny said, shaking off his surprise first. "How did you know how to calm him down?"

Lanca shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets, and said softly, "I just said what I wish I heard."

They didn't say anything, accepting the answer, and sat around Isaac. They made sure that, when he woke up, the first thing he saw was pack.

Lanca smiled softly, watching them. He retreated to the kitchen to give them privacy and to clean up before Isaac woke up. He didn't want the blonde to feel guilty about anything. After cleaning up the small mess, he sat down on one of the stools to wait for Stiles and 'Little Alpha' to get back.

* * *

Stiles was rambling on about anything and everything when he and Derek walked inside. He stopped, however, when he saw the betas and Allison sitting around Isaac, who was sleeping. Under his eyes were red, the tell-tale signs of someone who had been crying. Handing his bags to Scott, he quickly walked over to Isaac, the betas having moved for him. He ran a hand through the curly blonde hair, smiling slightly when the pup leaned into it, "What happened?"

"Lanca said he had a panic attack," Erica answered, voice just a whisper so she didn't wake up the sleeping boy. "It didn't last long. He managed to calm him down before anything happened."

"Lanca?" Stiles straightened and looked around, "Where is he?"

"He's in the kitchen," Jackson answered, jabbing a thumb towards the door. He seemed to know exactly where the redhead was instantly.

"Good," Stiles made his way there, grabbing the groceries back from Scott. "Lanca?"

"Ah, welcome back, Stiles," The redhead was seated on a stool, hands in his pockets. He had a small smile on his face and he nodded at Derek, "Hello, Little Alpha."

Derek gave a small growl at the name and set to work on putting away the groceries. Stiles did the same since he was only allowed to carry a small bag -stupid werewolves- before turning to the redhead.

"Thanks," Derek huffed out before the Stilinski could say a word. "For helping Isaac."

"It was no problem, Derek," Lanca nodded, for once using the alpha's actual name. "I was happy to help."

"Still means a lot," Stiles grinned, grabbing some ingredients for the food he was about to start preparing. "It's not easy treating a panic attack. Sometimes you could say the wrong thing.

Stiles wasn't expecting Lanca to nod in understand but he did and it hurt the brunette inside to know that there was someone like him and Isaac who was just as broken. Moving to the fridge, Stiles pulled out the jug of milk and cleared his throat, "So, uh, chicken marinara and steak subs sound good to you?"

"Sounds perfect," Lanca smiled but there was a knowing look in his golden eyes, like he knew exactly what Stiles was thinking.


	8. Apartments and 'Truth or Dare'

Lanca didn't know what to do when a large plate of chicken marinara and a steak sub was placed in front of him. He simply thanked Stiles, grabbing a fork and starting on the food. He kept a close eye on Isaac, making sure the pup was okay. He seemed surprised when he walked inside the kitchen, as if he expected it to be wrecked.

"I should go," Lanca looked out the window, noticing the sun going down. "It's getting late."

"Before you go, stay here," Jackson grinned and ran up the stairs, coming back down with two or three bags. "The girls made us go inside Hot Topic and, even though I didn't know when I'd see you again, these reminded me of you."

Lanca blinked owlishly but nodded, accepting the bag. He peered inside of them and pulled out some of the stuff. There were some band shirts; My Chemical Romance, Black Veil Brides, etc., black jeans, some leather, and an actual leather jacket. Three of the shirts had donuts and cupcakes on them and one other had a wolf on it and another had a red dragon.

"T-Thank you," Lanca said and he sounded a little surprised. "No one had ever- Thank you, Jackson."

"No problem," Jackson shrugged, turning around and missing the weird look on Lydia's face. "Just thought it'd suit you. Everyone wanted me to get something there so I took the chance."

"Still," Lanca smiled, placing the items back in the bags. "I never received a gift before." He grabbed his books and made his way to the door, "I'll see you at school, everyone."

"I'll give you a ride," Derek said, grabbing his leather jacket and keys to his Camaro.

"Thank you, Little Alpha."

Cue growl.

Scott shook his head as the pair left, "Lanca seems to enjoy annoying Derek."

"It's fun," Stiles grinned, putting the dishes in the sink. "His reaction is always hilarious. All he says is _'I'll rip your throat out... With my teeth.'_ " He laughed to himself, "He's all talk no bite."

"Maybe to you," Isaac shook his head. "But will Lanca be alright? Derek barely knows him."

"That may be true," Jackson sat on one of the stools, arms crossed. "But you forget that Lanca's a dragon. He can hold his own."

Before anyone could say anything, the sound of Derek's Camaro could be heard outside. When it shut off, the werewolves tilted their heads in confusion when they heard two heartbeats. They straightened when the door opened, Derek walking inside with Lanca in tow.

"What? I thought you went to take Lanca home," Stiles furrowed his eyebrows in thought.

"He's not living there," Derek growled, pulling out his phone.

"Dereeekkk!" Lanca whined, frowning slightly, "You can't decide this on your own!"

"I just did," Derek growled, alpha red seeping into his eyes.

Suddenly, Lanca's pupils turned into slits, the golden color of his eyes brightening slightly. After a moment, he just sighed, slumping in defeat, "Well, where am I going to sleep, Hot Shot?"

Derek snarled at the name but answered, "You'll stay here."

"I don't get it," Isaac tilted his head in confusion. "What's wrong with Lanca's home?"

Both Lanca and Derek turned towards the beta, answering at the same time, "Nothing, Little Pup." "Everything."

"Here, look," Derek turned on his phone, scrolling through it for a second, before showing it to Stiles.

"Aw, man," Lanca groaned, knowing full well what Stiles' reaction would be.

"YOU LIVE HERE?!" Stiles looked horrified, hands trembling as he held the phone.

"It looks better on the inside?" Lanca offered though it sounded like a question.

The apartment complex -if it could even be called that- was run down, mold growing in the corners and part of the walls coming down. The doors looked to be half on their hinges and almost all of the windows were shattered.

"Derek just booked it without even letting me out of the car," The redhead whined.

"With good reason!" Stiles snapped, handing the phone back to the alpha, "This is a health hazard, not a home!"

"It was the closest I had to one," Lanca grumbled, running a hand through his red hair. "Alright, fine. Where am I going to sleep?"

"There's a room upstairs across from mine," Derek spoke, nodding to the stairs.

"Thanks," Lanca walked up the stairs, bags in tow.

"Does he know where your room is?" Allison asked.

"He can probably smell it," Stiles replied with a shrug. "I don't know."

Said redhead came back downstairs a minute later, gloved hands stuffed in his pockets, "When will I get my stuff?"

"I'll send someone to pick it up," The alpha answered. "How much stuff do you have?"

Lanca tilted his head in thought, "Just enough for one werewolf to carry."

"Alright, Scott, go."

"Right," Scott caught the keys Lanca tossed at him and ran out the door.

"You really don't have to do this," Lanca shifted from foot to foot. "I'm fine."

"Too late," Erica grinned, putting her hands on her hips. "You're stuck with us, Red."

Lanca took the nickname in stride, smiling at her, "Sounds good to me, Danger."

"This is boring," Lydia rolled her eyes. "Let's play truth or dare."

"Alright, who's fi-" Stiles was cut off when Scott ran into the door with two medium size boxes.

"Wait, I want to play too!" The beta cried, setting the stuff down by the stairs.

Stiles rolled his eyes as his friend got comfortable next to his girlfriend, "Alright, Lydia, you go first since you wanted to play this."

"Hmm..." The strawberry blonde tapped her chin before grinning, "Stiles, truth or dare?"

"Truth," The brunette said warily, leaning away from the girl slightly.

"Do you like someone in this room?"

Stiles face turned a light pink and he shook his head, "No, I don't like anyone here."

"You can't lie in this game," The girl said in a sing-song voice.

"Uh, y-yeah, I do," Stiles stuttered and glared lightly when he heard a soft chuckle from Jackson's direction. The beta's eyes widened slightly and he pointed at Lanca, who had amusement dancing in his golden orbs.

"Lanca!" Stiles said a little too cheerfully, "Truth or dare?"

"Dare," Lanca smiled, not bothered by the wicked gleam in the human's eyes.

"I dare you, for a week, to act like you did before you closed yourself off from the world."

This time Lanca did look nervous, looking everywhere but Stiles, "Fine."

"Great! You start in the morning!" Stiles rubbed his hands together like a villain, chuckling madly and causing Isaac and Boyd to scoot away from him slightly.

"Lovely. Little Alpha!" Lanca ignored the growl he immediately received, "Truth or dare?"

"Truth," The alpha answered after a moment of thought.

"Aw, Big Bad is scared. In any case, do you know who your mate is?"

Derek shifted for a second, aware of everyone now staring at him, "Yes. McCall, truth or dare?"

"Dare!" Scott smirked, not asking anymore about Derek's mate.

"I dare you to..." The alpha leaned his head slightly to listen to Stiles better, who whispered something in his ear. "Kiss the person you think is the best looking besides Allison."

Scott looked at his girlfriend warily before standing up. Imagine everyone's surprise when he walked forward and kissed Jackson on the cheek.

Lydia's eyes widened in surprised, Jackson's reaction being the same, while the others gaped. Lanca only stared blankly at the two, his eyes darkening a shade.

Scott scrambled back next to Allison, face red, "Uh, Isaac, truth or dare?"

"Dare," The blonde said, almost shyly.

"I dare you to wear the jacket of the person closest to you."

Isaac looked around him before looking up at Lanca. Lanca merely smiled at him and shrugged off his trench coat, handing it to the beta, "Here, Little Pup."

Isaac smiled brightly at the redhead, putting on the clothing and sighing in bliss, "It smells so good and it's warm too!"

The others looked at each other before inching towards the blonde and touching the fabric of the trench coat.

"Dude, it's like there's a freaking heater in here!" Stiles said in amazement as he squeezed next to Isaac.

Lanca chuckled as everyone cuddled with the beta, "It's just my body heat." He looked over at Derek, "Perhaps, it is time for bed."

Derek nodded and moved towards his pack while Lanca made his way to his bedroom, muttering a _'good night'_ to everyone.


	9. Sleep

When Stiles woke up, he felt like he was on fire. He was suddenly aware of Isaac pressed up against his back and Derek's arm thrown over him. The others surrounded them, keeping close. He had unknowingly became part of a puppy pile. He, as carefully as he could without waking the werewolves, slipped out from the pile and made his way to the kitchen. He was not prepared to see a familiar redhead sitting on the kitchen counter listening to music.

"Son of a- Lanca!" Stiles put a hand on his chest, trying to catch his breath from his near-heart attack.

Said redhead wore the black pants he received from Jackson, the fabric looking skin tight- and _damn_ if Stiles didn't have a crush on someone else, he would have jumped the guy right there. He had on a sleeveless black shirt with his black scarf and combat boots with spikes. He wore a gray beanie and his long strand of hair had intricate beads hanging from it. He raised an eyebrow at the brunette and took out an earbud, "Good morning, Genim. Did you sleep well?"

"Did you sleep at all?" Stiles retorted, heading straight for the coffee maker and starting a batch. He opened the fridge and pulled out two carton of eggs and three packs of bacon. He opened one of the cabinets, cursing Derek internally for placing the mugs on the highest shelf.

"I can't sleep," Lanca answered, jumping down and grabbing the cups. "Never been able to. Need any help with breakfast?"

"Set the table?" Stiles said, nodding to the plates stacked on the island. "Derek's at the head then I'm at his right and then it's free reign for everyone else."

"Gotcha," Lanca fiddled with his lip piercing before grabbing the items and setting them accordingly. "The food smells good."

Right as the redhead said that, Isaac walked in, followed by the rest of the pack. They sniffed the air and immediately sat in their seats, waiting for the food. The girls gaped at Lanca's outfit, not responding to their boyfriends and friends when they shook them.

"Are you alright?" Lanca raised an eyebrow at them, tilting his head slightly. Suddenly, Lanca smirked and everyone didn't think the redhead could do anymore than his small smiles, "Oh, do you like what you see? Well, news flash, beauties! I'm gay and proud."

"Wha-" Erica shook her head before smirking in the same fashion, "Don't flatter yourself, Red."

"Food's ready," Stiles said, balancing plates on his arms. He smiled gratefully when Derek and Lanca grabbed some, placing them in front of the betas.

Lanca stepped back as everyone started eating, putting his plate down silently on the island. He turned around, heading towards the living room. He took the cup of coffee, taking a small sip, before leaving that too next to the plate. He flopped down on the couch, staring out the window at the wakening sky. Humming softly to himself, he crossed his arms and closed his eyes. He felt himself drifting off and, maybe, that was the first sign of something bound to go wrong...

* * *

"Hey, where's Lanca?" Jackson suddenly asked, placing his fork down and looking around.

"His plate's still here," Boyd pointed out, looking at the island. "He didn't touch it."

Suddenly, Lanca's heartbeat sped up rapidly, the smell of stress and panic coming from the living room in waves. There was a small gasp and the sound of choking that had everyone up and out of their chairs, not worrying about the fact that they clattered on the ground.

"Lanca!" Stiles cried, seeing the redhead sprawled on the floor. He was pale, gasping and reaching for something as he struggled to breathe. He was shaking uncontrollably and his pupils were blown wide, the golden color almost a white-ish color. He kept choking, pounding on his chest and nearly ripped out his hair as he tried to get his damn lungs to _work_. "No.. Don't kill them... My children.. Don't..." That was all he could choke out as he withered on the floor.

"Lanca," Derek was in front of him, gripping the dragon's shoulders tightly. "Lanca, look at me. Do you know who I am? It's Little Alpha. Come on, focus on my voice. Breathe. Lanca, I need you to breathe."

Lanca gasped, eyes flickering everywhere, never focusing on one thing. He still kept whispering the same thing as if he was seeing something that wasn't there. "Don't..." He suddenly shook violently, doubling over in Derek's grip. "I can't lose th- Don't-"

"LANCA!" Derek's eyes widened when the redhead went limp, going motionless in his arms, "Stiles, what do I do?!"

"Wake him up!" Stiles was suddenly at the alpha's side, laying the redhead down and cradling his head, "We need a bowl of water and some rags. Probably a trashcan too."

"On it!" Jackson, Scott, and Isaac took off in separate directions, each already knowing what to get.

"Lanca, come on, wake up!" Stiles cried, slapping the dragon's face lightly. "Wake up!"

"Lanca," Jackson was by the redhead's side in an instant, grabbing the pale hand. "Wake up, please. Wake up. Come on, open your eyes! Lanca, WAKE UP!"

"DON'T HURT THEM!" Lanca's eyes flew open and tears streamed down his face. He gasped, looking around and Stiles felt his heart clench when he saw the crushed and lost face. He sat up, hugging his sides and rocking himself back and forth. He looked at Stiles, smiling shakily, "This is why.. I don't go to sleep."

Derek felt a pang of understanding fly through him and maybe that's what pushed him forward because, next thing he knew, he was pulling the redhead in a hug, "It's okay to cry." And if the others didn't understand, it's okay because Derek did and that's all Lanca needed.

Lanca tensed before slouching in the alpha's arms and gripping the back of his shirt. He cried but no sounds escaped his mouth. He shook, crying for the family he lost, the children he could never see again. "You give good hugs," The redhead mumbled, hiding his face. "Warm and safe. Like clan."


	10. Reasons

Lanca was closed off for the rest of the day, not speaking a word to anyone. There was, however, the occasional crash from the redhead's room. He seemed angry, like he was throwing things around his room. When glass shattered, Stiles decided that it was time he tried to talk to Lanca. The others refused to let him try, saying that it was too dangerous and that Lanca could attack him in his anger.

But Stiles knew better.

Lanca wasn't angry. He was sad, broken, lonely, and alone but not angry. He may not be a werewolf but he had experience with these kind of emotions and how people tended to act on them. Lanca had no one, a fact Stiles just realized and should have _known_ because it was painfully obvious. Now, it made sense when Lanca opened up so easily with him and the pack. They were probably the first people in God knows how long who even bothered to look in his direction. The man had no house and no money for food and that was exactly what the pack offered him.

"Lanca?" Stiles knocked gently on the wooden door, flinching slightly when something slammed on the wall, "Can I come in?"

There was a moment of silence and it sounded like the redhead was placing something down. Finally, the door opened and weary gold eyes peered into amber, "Is it just you?" His voice was tired and rough, like he was crying, but his eyes weren't red and puffy. It was like he wouldn't allow the tears to fall anymore since last night.

"Yeah, it's just me," Stiles answered and was surprised when the redhead opened the door to let him in. He, however, didn't want to look a gifted horse in the mouth and made his way inside.

The room was trashed, wrappers of candy bars (Stiles didn't even know where Lanca got them) littered the floor and glass shards lay near his bed and desk, and his clothes were shredded and thrown places. Stiles idly noticed that the room, other than the mess, was bare. The clothes on the ground was the _only_ clothes in the room and that the bed and the desk was the only furniture. Was that really all Lanca owned?

"How are you?" Stiles finally asked, noticing Lanca watching him as he looked around the room. He went to step forward when the redhead held a hand up, stopping him.

"Don't move," In one smooth motion, a scaly limb swept the floor in front of the brunette, brushing the glass to the side of the room.

"You have a tail?!" Stiles gaped, looking at the blood red limb in awe.

Lanca looked faintly amused and flicked the appendage in front of him lazily, watching as Stiles' eyes followed it, "I have horns too." He shrugged and two smooth, black horns grew on his head, looking sort of like cat ears.

"Why'd you let me in but not the others?" The Stilinski asked, getting back to his first objective.

"Because I can hear your heartbeat and you know that," Lanca looked over at him before studying the sparkling glass on the floor. "But I also know that you won't lie to me. Derek doesn't trust me. Erica, Boyd, and Isaac don't know what to do with me. Danny is scared of me whether he shows it or not. I can smell it on him. Jackson's a mix of emotions but you..." He looked up at the brunette, "I can hear your heartbeat, I can smell your emotions, and I... I can _feel_ your trust in me."

"'Course I trust you, Lanca," Stiles said softly, running a hand gently on the scaly red tail. "If you wanted to kill us, you would have. You're a dragon. Don't tell Derek, although he probably already knows this, but you're the most powerful one here."

"Oh, he knows," Lanca nodded, laying back on his bed. "And he feels threatened. If I wanted to, which I don't, I could challenge him and take over this pack. I may be a dragon but I could. It has been done before. The thing he doesn't understand, probably won't for a while, but I'm tired of being in charge. He's young though," Lanca sighed, running a hand through his hair around his horns. "A new alpha. He has time just like I did."

"What happened?" Stiles looked over at the redhead like a curious child, "Why did you leave your clan?"

Lanca pursed his lips for a moment, moving his piercing slightly in thought, "The main reason, I suppose, is because I had found out that my mate is not a dragon."

Stiles didn't understand what was wrong with that but he knew it must have meant something if it caused Lanca to leave the family he so obviously loved. Still, it felt like there was something more to that but Stiles didn't push that part, "And the other reason?" He knew he was treading on personal ground but his curiosity was taking over and he knew next to nothing about dragons.

There was a lengthy pause and Stiles was going to take it back, tell him that he didn't need to know, but Lanca finally spoke, "I was tired. For hundreds of years, I traveled as one of the most powerful creatures on this God forsaken planet and I was tired of it. After my children- After my children were killed, I thought; this is it. I'm done. Who needs the 'King of the Dragons'? Certainly not me. That title, believe it or not, is not something that is passed on from family to family. You fight for it. If you think you're powerful enough, you find the current king and challenge him for the title. Either he gives it to you willingly..." Lanca looked to the corner of, eyes blank as he spoke, "Or you kill them. And me, being the young foolish kid I was, challenged him. Yes, I killed him but he still haunts me everyday..."

Stiles watched as the redhead pulled up the back of his shirt, revealing a somewhat faded scar that went from his right hip up to just over his left shoulder blade. It was large, almost as wide as Stiles' hand and looked jagged and painful. He reached out a hand, gently running a hand along it before pulling back his hand when Lanca flinched, "You can always talk to me about your problems, you know. I'll gladly help you with anything."

Lanca laughed, the action sounding sad and lonely, "Wow, yeah, I know, Genim. I just- Wow."

"What?" Stiles looked at him worriedly, "What is it?"

"I think..." Lanca ran a hand through his hair and his horns and tail retracted into his body, "I think that's the first time someone ever told me that."

"Hmph, well, they're jackasses then. Now, come on, I'm making pancakes. I'll even put M&M's in it."

"Oo, that sounds good!"


	11. At the Principal's

"Do I have to?" Lanca whined, sitting cross-legged on the floor of the pack's living room.

"Yes, Lanca," Stiles sighed, grabbing the dragon's wrist. "For the last time, you have to go to school," When he tried to pull the redhead up, it was like trying to move a boulder.

"Come on," Jackson stood at the doorway to the hall, backpack slung over his shoulder. He looked at Lanca, tilting his head.

The dragon was wearing black pants with dark red boots. He had on an AC/DC shirt, the bottom a dark red like his boots and going up like flames. He had a chain wallet and his bracelets on, looking bad ass and utterly miserable as he fought against going to school.

"I'll take you in the Porsche," The blonde walked forward, grabbing the dragon's other wrist, and the redhead allowed himself to be lifted up. "We're going to be late to school if we wait any longer."

"Fine," Lanca sighed, grabbing his bag. "But I'm not going to enjoy this."

Stiles snorted, "No one does."

* * *

Lunch time came around and the pack sat at their table, waiting for Lanca. After ten minutes, whispers started up, catching their attention.

 _"Did you hear what happened?"_

 _"Yeah, I heard Loner Mill attacked Jean."_

 _"Why'd he do it, though? Guy's a nobody. No one talks to him."_

 _"I heard someone insulted one of Mill's 'friends'. He's in the office. They said they were calling his parents."_

Scott quickly relayed the information to the human's of the pack and they quickly got up, exiting the lunch room. They came to the principal's office in time to hear Lanca speak.

 _"Look, I keep telling you, I have no parents. I'm staying with a friend. Besides, it's not like that douche didn't deserve it. That asshole should've gotten worse."_

 _"Mr. Mill, you will watch your language. Until we can get a guardian contacted, you will not leave this office."_

 _"Are you fucking kidding me?!" The pack could picture Lanca throwing his hands in the air in frustration, "I have no one! I'm alone! Why can't you get that through your thick skull?!"_

 _"That's it. Since you, apparently, have no guardian, I will be contacting Sheriff Stilinski."_

 _"I have my friend."_

 _"Your friend isn't good enough."_

 _"My friend's always good enough!"_

The pack looked at each other, surprised that Lanca cursed like that. Just who did Jean Rivers, one of the school bullies, insult?

"Stiles," John Stilinski, Stiles' father, walked in, not even surprised to see his son loitering by the principal's office. "What are you doing out of class?"

"Dad, my friend Lanca's in there 'cause he got in trouble but it wasn't his fault!" Stiles shot into the conversation, flailing his arms. "Someone insulted one of his friends which is a big no-no. And now the principal won't let him out because he doesn't have any family!"

"No family?" Sheriff Stilinski went right past the 'in trouble' part and switched right into his 'concerned parent' mode, "Where's he staying?"

"He lives with Derek and Isaac," Scott answered, almost immediately regretting it when he saw John's face.

" _Derek Hale_? The one accused of _murder_?"

"He was innocent!" Stiles exclaimed. "But that's not the point! You have to get the principal to leave him alone! She keeps questioning him about his family and all and that's some serious stuff! He's real sensitive about it."

"Alright, alright," John nodded, knowing what could happen if he didn't intervene. When he walked in, he had to fight to keep himself from laughing. This Lanca kid decided to plop down on the floor, elbows resting on his thighs. He had the most dead-to-the-world face and he seemed unmovable when the principal tried to grab his arms.

"Sheriff Stilinski," The redhead tilted his head to the side to look at him, his golden eyes catching the man off guard. He stood up, dusting off his clothes and stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Have you come to pick me up?"

"Yes," John nodded, gesturing for the teen to come over.

"Glad you're here," The principal walked over, looking at Lanca and the Sheriff. "Maybe you can find his parents."

"For the last time, my parents are _dead_ ," The dragon glared harshly at the person, making them flinch. "My family is _dead_. I'm _alone_. What part of that do you not _get_?" He mumbled something under his breath before turning to John, "We can go now, Sheriff."

"R-right," John nodded, opening the door. _'My family is dead. I'm alone.'_ Maybe, the Sheriff could see why Lanca stayed with Derek Hale. Those words kept echoing in his head, over and over again. He led him to his police cruiser, telling his son to stay in school, when the teen told him he owned no car.

* * *

John Stilinski would be lying if he said he wasn't worrying about Stiles. He knew he wasn't the best father, never really there and always working. After Stiles' mother died, John began drinking. It wasn't much, just a bottle here and there, but he could see how much it pained Stiles. His son took up doing the chores and cooking, things his mother did, and John was glad that Stiles at least had Scott there with him along the way. Now, Stiles had many friends, ones that were close to him and he them. He just didn't want anyone to hurt Stiles or the teens. If they were hurt, who would protect them when John couldn't.

"I'll protect them."

John jerked in surprise, glancing at the teen in the front seat of his cruiser, "What?"

Lanca was staring ahead, golden eyes unreadable in the light of the car, "I'll protect those kids." He looked at the Sheriff as they pulled up at his office, "I'll protect your son and the others, Sheriff. You have my word."

John swallowed, nodding, "Alright." For some reason, he knew that meant a lot coming from Lanca. "So, Stiles tells me you live with Derek," He got out of his car, prompting the redhead to do the same on his side.

"Yes, that's correct," Lanca nodded, shutting the door. "He had refurbished his old home and allowed me to stay after Jackson and Stiles introduced me to him. Of course, Stiles wouldn't let me stay with just anyone if he didn't trust them so I trust Derek."

"Alright," John stopped and Lanca stopped with him, tilting his head in confusion. "I'm not supposed to do this. Usually, I'd call child Services."

"That would not work, Sheriff," The redhead said with a small smile, shrugging. "I'm eighteen."

"I'll let you stay with Derek," John continued, filing that information. "But you have to promise that both you, Derek, and Isaac will come by some time for dinner."

"You got it, Sheriff. Can you call Stiles and tell him to send Jackson to come pick me up? I don't exactly feel up to going back to school."

"You don't have a phone?" John asked in surprise but sent his son a quick text. He received an _'Oksadf'_ , which he assumed was 'Okay'.

"No, I haven't had many friends before this year," Lanca shrugged. "I'm a bit antisocial with a dash of hermit."

"Ah, alright," John turned in surprise when he heard the Porsche pull up. "Looks like your ride's here. Have a good day, Lanca."

"You too, Sheriff," Lanca opened the passenger door to Jackson's car, saying something quick to him. He nudged the blonde's shoulder, sending the teen a quick smile, and Jackson nudged him back before puling out of the parking lot.


End file.
